


Where or When

by FalCatrecon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Noir Detective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalCatrecon/pseuds/FalCatrecon
Summary: For @debrielcc AU prompt ‘Noir Detective’-----His hands stilled on the keys of the typewriter as he looked up with a glare at his secretary. “What.” A year ago he had asked for blond from a secretary service, but forgot to mention female. He wasn’t even blond, but more of a dirty blond too. He’d have sent him back if the guy hadn’t been damn good at the job. Also was a good copy editor and made a mean cup of joe.Gabriel just rolled his eyes, used to his employer’s attitude, and pointed at the clock. “Your 2 o’clock is here, boss.” Maybe he also kept him because he didn’t take any of his crap either.





	Where or When

_The name is Dean Winchester, Private Eye. The day started dreary, everyone rushing to and fro, hiding from the rain._

A knock on the door interrupted Dean’s line of thought, not that he had much. His hands stilled on the keys of the typewriter as he looked up with a glare at his secretary. “What.” A year ago he had asked for blond from a secretary service, but forgot to mention female. He wasn’t even blond, but more of a dirty blond too. He’d have sent him back if the guy hadn’t been damn good at the job. Also was a good copy editor and made a mean cup of joe.

Gabriel just rolled his eyes, used to his employer’s attitude, and pointed at the clock. “Your 2 o’clock is here, boss.” Maybe he also kept him because he didn’t take any of his crap either.

Dean sighed and heaved the typewriter to the floor, clearing his desk for notes. “Thanks. Bring her in.”

“ _Him_.” Gabriel grinned at the new glare and shrugged. “Not my fault you don’t ask.” He turned to gesture for his new client to come in, stalling any comeback Dean might have had. He may have to make Gabriel write genders on these client notes of his, though he was sure the man did it on purpose.

Dean quickly refreshed himself with the notes in front of him while the client hung his coat on the hook. He stood as the man approached his desk, offering his hand to shake. “Cassie is it?”

“Castiel.” The blue eyes glanced back at the door and then back to Dean. “I believe Gabriel decided that nickname.”

Dean answered that with a shrug of ‘what can you do’ before sitting and tapping the sheet in front of him. “And he tells me you’re looking for someone?”

Castiel nodded, settling stiffly in the seat across from him. “Yes. He… stole something of mine. I would like it back.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded, readying his pencil for notes. “Any descriptors, last known location, something to start with?”

“Brown hair, hazel eyes, taller than me. He called himself Benny Goodman.” Castiel winced slightly at Dean’s incredulous eyebrow. “He said it was a coincidence.”

“Yeah, sure it was. Where did you last see him?” Dean scribbled down the loose description and alias. It was at least something, especially if he used the name again.

“We met in New York. The detective there went to where he had been staying and gave me a forwarding address of this city.” Castiel shrugged. “He has eluded me so far.”

Dean tapped the paper in front of him. “You got that address?”

“Yes, right.” He lost his primness as he patted himself down, finding a folded piece of paper in his jacket pocket and handing it over. “It also has the place he was staying at.”

Dean took the paper from him, pursuing the information. The forwarding address was just a PO Box, but it was Chicago. The hotel however… “The Plaza? Why the hell would he need to steal if he could stay there?”

“I was under the impression that the room was paid for by someone else. He made mention of a debt.”

Dean sighed. The only types of people who ended up in a high-end establishment like that who didn’t look like they had the money for the room were drug dealers or ‘ladies of the night’. Since he had debt… “Did you meet him in the room?”

Castiel sharply shook his head. “No. I met him at a bar nearby. We talked for awhile and he said the hotel, nothing more.” He frowned. “It was the other detective that found the room number.”

Dean nodded, scribbling down some notes. Mostly he was going to have to hunt down the PO Box and see who was at the other end, if any. From there, taller than Castiel was at least not extremely common, though he himself was. It was a start. “Anything else at all?”

Castiel slowly shook his head. “He said something about the devil took his debt and something about school, but I think it was hyperbole.”

The pencil stopped scratching. “Devil?” He pointed the pencil at Castiel. “You’re telling me your mysterious thief works for Lucifer to pay off his debts?”

“I...I do believe that was the term he used, yes.” Castiel leaned forward, worried yet hopeful. “Why, does that mean something?”

Dean tossed his pencil on the table. “Mean something?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Have you even been reading the newspaper?” Castiel shook his head no, so Dean kept going. “He is the head of the local mafia.” A muscle in his jaw twitched at the blank look he was still getting. “Look. If your boy is caught up in his mess, it’s best to leave it alone.”

This got a reaction finally. Castiel stood up suddenly, his eyes going hard. “If you will not help, I will do it myself.” If Dean was a lesser man, he might be intimidated. As it was, all it meant to him was that he cared very much about what was stolen.

“Hey now.” Dean held up a hand, stalling Castiel’s movement. “If the thing stolen is that important, I’ll take a look.” He stood up as well to put them on even ground again. “You got a number I can reach you at?”

Castiel looked off-kilter for a moment, his steam broken. “Um. Yes. I…” He patted his pockets before taking the pencil offered. He quickly wrote the number and hotel he was staying at on the sheet of notes Dean had started. “Thank you.” He managed to nearly bow in nervous awkwardness before taking his coat off the stand.

Dean watched him go in confusion before trailing out after to talk to his secretary. “What the hell.”

Shrugging, Gabriel kicked his heels up onto his desk. “I owed my second cousin a favor, and he needed a detective in town.” He gestured towards the front door. “Voila.”

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. “Lucifer.”

Gabriel smacked a hand on his face and sighed. “Damnit. Cassie really knows how to pick ‘em.” He twitched an eyebrow with a slow grin as he dropped his hand. “And I bet you caved, you ‘ol softie.”

“Shutup.” Dean crossed his arms petulantly. “It’s not Lucifer directly, just one of his debtors took something of his. It’s fine.”

Gabriel nodded as he reached for his coat. “Where are we starting, boss-man?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t normally come with me.”

Winking, Gabriel tipped his hat onto his head. “Sounds like you need someone to watch your back this time.” He gestured to the empty waiting room. “Also work is slow, so…”

“And nothing to do with him being your cousin?” Dean went ahead and grabbed his coat too, reluctantly letting Gabriel follow. Even if he wasn’t effective backup, a second pair of eyes were helpful.

Gabriel dug out his copy of the door keys and held open the door. “Second cousin, and no, you’re tackling Lucifer.” A serious set crossed his face for a second before his normal grin replaced it. If Dean had blinked he might have missed it. “So just in case.”

Huh. Dean hadn’t really talked much with him about before his secretary job, so maybe something had happened. Who knew. He walked with Gabriel to the street, outlining the plan. He was considering still visiting the post office, but that would probably be a dead end. He did have a contact in Lucifer’s men that might be able to help them out. Gabriel suggested just heading straight to the contact, and Dean relented. It honestly did make the most sense.

\------

The contact happened to be a chemist that Dean had found out delt drugs on the side. The reason he was willing to give limited information was simply so Dean wouldn’t turn him in. Plus Dean had gotten him out a couple of small scrapes, so that was worth for something.

They pulled up to the pharmacy, Dean paying the cabbie and, dutifully with his secretary watching, noted the expense in his notebook. Gabriel generally didn’t care how he spent his money, but if it could be written off on taxes he certainly was for it. The more overall profit the better.

Dean waltzed into the pharmacy, Gabriel trailing behind. “Heya Donnie, business been good?”

“Oh, uh, Dean. How are you?” The shorter man had quickly tucked something under his counter at the noise, but shrugged and pulled back out the most likely illegal substances he had been measuring out. Gabriel only twiched an eyebrow up at Dean’s look, as if it say ‘go on’. 

Dean rolled his eyes, since he hadn’t been asking permission, just making sure his secretary wasn’t going to panic over a little illegal activity. “Doing good, thanks for asking. I do have this one tiny problem though.” He leaned against the counter, pushing close into Donnie’s space. “I need to know about a guy.”

Donnie’s eyes flicked to Gabriel, then back to Dean, before doing what he’d almost call a double-take. Gabriel stepped forward and offered his hand. “Name’s Gabriel, I’m his secretary.”

“Ah. N-Nice to meet you. Um. I’m Donatello.” He awkwardly shook Gabriel’s hand over the counter before turning back to Dean. Odd, but Donnie seemed more skittish now than before. “Who do you need to know about?”

“There’s this guy who stole something from a client of mine. There’s a chance he’s in your employer’s employ. Owes him some money. He’s tall, my height or taller, hazel eyes, brown hair. Ring a bell?”

Donnie looked Dean over a moment in thought. “Not too many guys that tall… I just might know at least one, but I don’t have a name.” Dean’s eyes narrowed, expecting the normal pitch for money or a favor. Instead Donnie pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil, scribbling something down. “I think he works here. At least that’s where the really tall guy I’ve heard of works anyway.” He shrugged, looking anywhere but at the two in front of him. “Promise.”

Dean sighed and pocketed the paper. “That’s all you know?” It was normally like pulling teeth. This was way too smooth and he was suspecting maybe he had asked too many questions around Donnie at this point. It smelled fishy.

Donnie held up a hand. “Scouts honor.” He only glanced cursorily at Dean, the more sincere look, or as sincere as a dealer could look, was at Gabriel. Eh, they were about the same height, maybe it was just easier to look at him.

“Thank you for the information.” He tilted his hat before heading back out the front door, Gabriel following. He crossed his arms once outside as they waited for a cab. “What’s his deal?”

Gabriel shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Like I’d know. Do you always make him that nervous or what?”

Dean shook his head. “No. But he did seem jumpy even when we first walked in. Maybe the cops had dropped by or something.” He pulled the paper back out from his pocket, inspecting the address. It was further downtown and not in the red light district as he had suspected. It was a pretty popular club. He glanced at his watch. It wouldn’t have a lot of patrons yet, so probably a good time to check it out. “Do you want to go dancing?”

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Thought you’d never ask.”

\-----

The club’s live band was playing slow and soft, allowing the beginning patrons filter in and settle with a drink in hand. Dean took a slow sip of the whiskey he had procured, Gabriel sipping on a martini next to him by the bar. He turned to the bartender and asked after any sort of really tall man. The bartender shook his head, even when Dean offered some hard cash as an offer for information. Either he was really loyal or he knew nothing.

Gabriel had wandered off in the meantime, mingling with the people. Dean watched him, surprised at how easily he fit in. He hadn’t ever properly looked, but Gabriel even dressed the part. He looked down ruefully at his slightly rumpled suit and back up to Gabriel’s perfectly pressed one. Hell, he couldn’t tell from here but it looked tailored. Gabriel mingled his way back over with a genuine smile on his face. “Looks like the guy you want is part of the band. There’s rumors he has a side job, but nothing confirmed.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile right back. He was glad his secretary was enjoying himself. “Sounds good. We got a name?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the ‘we’, but let it slide. “No such luck. At least, not a real one. They call him Goodman because he can play a mean clarinet.” He looked back up to the band, now gearing up for a bit more energetic song. “And not scheduled for today.”

“Damn, you know how to talk.” Dean patted him on the shoulder with a grin. “Should’a taken you out sooner. When is he due in?”

“”Yeah, you should have.” Gabriel spoke under his breath, before coughing slightly and speaking up to fight the sound of the music. “Tuesday.”

Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to have heard that first part, so he pretended not to. For now. “Sounds great. It’s a date?”

Gabriel stared at him a long moment before nodding. “After work then. Make sure to call Cassie, would you?” He turned back to the crowd with a grin. “I think I’ll kick around here a bit longer, if you don’t mind?”

“Hey, it’s your life.” Dean did dally a moment more at the bar, continuing to watch Gabriel in his element. He hadn’t even really considered him outside his secretary job. He knew he didn’t pay him quite enough for a well tailored suit, and unless the guy just happened to pick the best clothes for this day, there was a good chance most his clothes were. Dean didn’t normally go and dig around in people’s past, especially if they were aiming to turn over a new leaf. He’d let it go for now, as he already trusted the man to run most of the front part of his business anyway. Why mess up a good thing he had going?

\-----

Dean did call Castiel on Monday to give a basic update on how much legwork they had done, and how he had a lead. He didn’t tell him where, as the man had seemed upset enough to maybe take matters into his own hands. Dean did ask what was stolen, and got an evasive answer. Something about it being personal and he wanted to talk to the man about it. Well, he said he’d try to arrange a meet. Personally he wasn’t sure it would work, but no reason to tell the client that up front. 

According to Gabriel he had enjoyed himself very much that evening, thanks for asking, but no he didn’t learn anything more. To be fair Dean hadn’t asked about it in a work related capacity, but he didn’t normally ask after Gabriel either, which was his own fault. It’s really something he should have done more often sooner. Nothing much else happened Monday aside from pulling in a new adultery case, which was always depressing. Aside from how much he hated having to spy on people’s love life, he then had to report it to the spouse. Most of the time their suspicion was correct, and the rest of them were just convinced he was a bad detective. It sucked, but it paid the bills.

Tuesday he took a moment for his book, because he could. They were dumb dime-store novels, but he felt good when he could write one out. Gabriel certainly seemed to enjoy reading and editing them too, so at least one other person liked what he wrote. It was a nice change of pace and helped refresh his mind to tackle more pressing problems, like his actual job. Speaking of… He grinned at the clock as it rolled over to the hour. He stood up and stretched, grabbing his coat and hat on the way to his office door. “Gabriel!”

Gabriel looked up curiously from the book he was idly reading, then glanced at the clock. That familiar smile spread across his face that Dean was beginning to like being there. “Hey, dance time!” His eyes raked over Dean and he shook his head before turning to a box he had nearby. “I refuse to be seen with you looking like that. Try this on.”

“What?” Dean took the package, opening it. It wasn’t quite as nice as what Gabriel was wearing, but the suit inside was leaps and bounds better than what Dean currently had on. “I… Uh.” He shook his head. “I can’t take this.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I got a buddy about your size that ordered it and didn’t want it anymore.” The smile seemed a bit forced now. “Promise.”

Dean was fairly certain his secretary was lying, but if he was going to insist. And it was a nice suit… “Give me a moment.” He carried it back into his office to change. It was a three piece ensemble, complete with shirt and tie. It also just happened to match his hat, which sealed the fact Gabriel had lied. It fit damn near perfect, and Dean had to wonder when Gabriel had gotten any sort of ballpark measurements to fit this good. He made a point not to check the label. He didn’t want to even consider how much this cost, he could already feel the price in the fabric.

He stepped out of the office, and met a very approving stare. He adjusted the jacket nervously. “Thanks. It fits great.”

“Glad it does.” Gabriel stared a moment more before grinning and turning to his own suit jacket and hat. “Let’s get a move on, shall we? We’ll take my car.”

——-

The nightclub wasn’t packed just yet, as work had just let out, but it gave them time to re-case the place. They were even able to snag a table near the back against a wall. It gave them a great vantage point to survey the entire club. They were sipping at their drinks, Gabriel insisting on champagne this time, when the band started to set up. Gabriel nudged him, pointing at someone taller than everyone else. “That him?”

Dean stared. “Goddamnit.” He stood up and bee-lined for the stage, Gabriel hurrying after.

“Dean, buddy! What are you doing?” Gabriel managed to snag Dean’s arm before he could get too far.

He hissed back in anger, yanking his arm away. “That’s my brother.” Sam was _supposed_ to be in California. He had talked to him a week ago, when Castiel put him in New York. And what the hell was this business with Lucifer? Dean continued to stalk towards the stage, where the musicians finally noticed him. 

The tallest, which at this distance he could tell was definitely Sam, balked at the sight of him, but still hurried forward to take the brunt of his anger. “Hey, Dean, uh.”

Dean cut him off. “What. The hell.” He pointed up at him. “You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“I mean…” Sam shrugged helplessly and knelt down at the edge of the stage. “I, uh, got a job here?”

Dean crossed his arms. “I had someone ask me to track you down! Or someone who looks exactly like you and called himself Benny Goodman.”

Sam blanched. “Oh.” He glanced around the club, as if someone could be watching, his eyes lighting on Gabriel who had followed Dean over. “Him?”

Gabriel lightly pushed Dean aside and cutting off any reply, offering his hand up to Sam. “Gabriel. I’m his assistant.”

A grin crossed Sam face as he shook his hand and he turned to Dean. “Gabriel? Not, oh, Gabrielle?”

“Don’t try to get out of me yelling at you! You owe money to Lucifer!” Dean turned an interesting shade of red, not wanting to go down that path of conversation.

“Gabrielle?” Gabriel inquired at about the same time Sam said, “What? No.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, ignoring Gabriel for now as he recognized Sam’s tells. He was lying. He reached out and snagged Sam’s coat, hauling him off-balance. “Don’t lie to me.”

Sam yanked his coat out of Dean’s grip angrily. “Look. I have a gig that I’m actually getting paid for. Just.” He stood up in and took a breath. “We’ll talk after.” Dean glared. “I promise.”

Dean turned away in a huff, but was immediately faced with a curious secretary, who had an amused smile. “Gabrielle, huh?”

Stalking past, Dean headed for their table. “He misheard me once, I thought it was funny.” He grumbled a bit at himself at a volume Gabriel couldn’t hear, “‘She’ might be my hot secretary.”

Gabriel grinned. “You don’t talk as quiet as you think you do.”

“Look. You can tease me later or whatever. I just found out I was asked to find my brother who is somehow involved with _Lucifer_.” Dean seethed as he sat at their table, knocking back the drink he left there. He eyed Gabriel. “And you’re not concerned your cousin is involved?”

“Second cousin, and no. He can take perfectly good care of himself.” Gabriel lightly sipped at his drink, watching the band set up. “Though I’m not so sure your brother stole anything in particular.”

“What?”

“Cassie has a bad habit of picking up strays, as it were.” Gabriel grinned. “You’re brother probably pushed all those buttons. He looks like he could give a mean pair of puppy eyes.”

Dean let out a long sigh and looked back at the stage. “Yeah, but I thought it was a brother thing.” He rubbed at his face. “That still won’t fix this debt problem, just means I don’t trust my client as much.”

Gabriel shrugged nonchalantly as the band began to play, leaving Dean to his thoughts alone. He trusted Gabriel enough that he actually wasn’t upset about Castiel, but… his brother was mixed up with Lucifer of all people! The only reason he could even think that the mob had gotten ahold of him was his schooling. It was the reason he was supposed to be in California after all. 

The music soon distracted him. His brother was actually really good! He watched Sam as best as he could from in the back, seeing how much into the music he was. He was enjoying himself. Dean hadn’t seen his brother happy quite like that in a very long time. The next sigh was in defeat, and he could see the grin start on Gabriel’s face from the corner of his eye. Yeah yeah, he was a softie, so sue him. Considering how well Sam was playing, he probably needed money for the instrument and everything else that came with starting such a job. What hurt though was that he never asked Dean for anything with this, though he had helped him with the money for school. Sure he had to play the dad ever since theirs died drunk in a gutter somewhere, but he didn’t want to be treated like one.

As the evening wore on and people came and went, Dean had noticed a handful of suspiciously less-nicely dressed men hanging around, scattered throughout the crowd. None of them had left yet, even though they all drifted in at different times. He got more on edge as the time crept closer to closing time so he decided to head closer to the stage and his brother. Gabriel followed without question, looking just as on edge as he felt.

He settled up to the stage as the band started to dismantle their instruments and the last of the real patrons left. Sam finished his packing and knelt at the edge, leaning towards Dean. “What’s your play?”

Good, he had noticed it too. “Do you know them?” Sam shook his head. “Then we wait and see if they’re for someone else.” He adjusted his coat perfunctorily, settling it so his gun was in easier reach. Gabriel leaned against the stage, as if they were chatting, but he was definitely casing the others. Dean was starting to wish he had looking into his secretary’s background a bit harder, but at least he was on their side.

As the last of the band filtered out of the stage, waving at Sam who cheerfully waved back, the other four people still in the bar came closer. One, who seemed to be more in command than the others, spoke up. “You got business here?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. Unobservant, stupid, new or all three. He crossed his arms. “Dean Winchester. And I got business, yeah.”

The man’s eyes narrowed in recognition, finally. “We don’t need a detective around. I’d recommend you leave.”

Shaking his head, Dean leaned forward. “What business do you have?” Sam at this point had slid his way off the stage, nervously backing his brother. No weapon, but Dean knew he wasn’t shabby in the fistfight department.

“Our boss would like a chat with Benny there.” The man jerked his chin up at Sam.

“No.” Dean was blunt, and his simple answer seemed to put the others off kilter. He lightly pushed his brother towards the door around the side of the stage, and he slowly followed. Gabriel had been quiet the whole time, but his eyes had not left the handful of men in front of them.

The man finally thought through the answer and shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to bring him in anyway.” His hand reached into his coat, but Dean was faster. He winged the man before he could finish drawing his weapon, but that had the other three drawing theirs. Dean shoved Sam hard towards the doors and out of the firefight while keeping his weapon aimed at the others who were now trying to use tables as cover. 

Dean saw Sam push through the doors right as he took a bullet to the shoulder, distracted while protecting his brother. He sunk against the edge of the stage, a burst of panic crossing his mind as he realized he had no clue where Gabriel was. Was he safe? He could feel himself bleeding, but the gunshots weren’t near him. Damnit, he hadn’t protected his secretary. He sunk further, trying to keep breath in his lungs and the bleeding down. He was getting kind of tired, but not so tired he didn’t hear the screaming start and the gunshots stop. His sight started to fade as a familiar shape was hurrying towards him. Gabriel didn’t wear a red shirt tonight, right?

He jolted back to consciousness as he was hefted up, Gabriel prattling at him about staying awake, he couldn’t lift him. He was lead the way Sam had gone, Gabriel keeping him faced away from the club floor. Dean wanted to see what happened, but he couldn’t quite articulate the words. He did manage to catch a glimpse of… red? A whole lot of blood, his brain corrected. What the hell.

As soon as they hit the door Sam rushed forward, helping take the weight. Dean started to fade again, not having to hold himself up anymore, but he registered a quick discussion about the car and getting a doctor.

\----

His next flash was of pain. A deep, searing pain through his entire shoulder. He couldn’t help the jerk and near scream.

“Hold him down!” A voice he didn’t recognize commanded. Arms clamped down on his torso and legs, and the pain continued on in his shoulder as he tried to struggle.

“Dean! You’re fine! The bullet is still in your shoulder, we have to get it out.” This time he could hear Gabriel, and he slowed his fighting. He was still confused, but his brain was starting to process what was said. Ah. Injured, probably at some doctor or something. He tried to relax, but the pain was nearly unbearable. He blinked his eyes clear of the bright light above him, meeting very worried brown. Well, that was Gabriel. A look down showed equally worried hazel, which would be Sam. Good. They were fine. The pressured pain finally stopped with an odd squelch, and he looked up and over at what he assumed was a doctor, now holding a bullet in a set of medical pliers.

Gabriel took a deep breath and let off the pressure, the barest twitch of his normal smile. “Can you handle stitches?”

Dean echoed his slow breath and nodded. Sam let off his pressure on his legs, standing up in relief. Dean looked between the two, finally noticing the blood soaking Gabriel’s shirt. “What happened? You okay?”

Gabriel looked down at himself and shrugged. “I think you bled on me.” Dean’s eyes narrowed. It was really hazy, but he distinctly remembered Gabriel’s shirt before he came over. He tried to argue, but the needle dug into his flesh and he hissed in pain instead.

He glared at Gabriel. “Who’s the butcher you found?” 

He heard a laugh from the man stitching him up. “Be glad I have a sense of humor.”

Gabriel smiled over Dean’s shoulder at the man. “One of the reasons I came to you.” He looked back down to Dean. “Alistar is the best back alley doctor I know.”

“Goddamn torturer.” Dean hissed as the needle pierced his shoulder again. “Ever heard of a painkiller?”

Another chuckle echoed from Alistar. “That gets expensive.” He carefully ran another stitch to help close the wound, actually being very precise and professional no matter the complaints Dean had. “You don’t want that sort of bill.”

Another couple of stitches filled with grumbling and pain, and Dean was helped up from where he lay. He breathed a sigh of relief as Alistar started to bandage him up. “Make sure to keep the stitches clean and change the bandages at least once a day. In around a month you can remove the stitches.” Alistar lightly patted the bandages as he finished. “Done and done.”

Gabriel grinned over the shirt he was offering. “Come on, lets get you dressed and home.” 

Dean carefully pulled on his shirt, needing only a little bit of help with his injured shoulder. He turned to Alistar with a small grimace. “How much do I owe you?”

Alistar shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. He’s got a long-standing tab.” He gestured towards Gabriel, who studiously avoided meeting Dean’s look. Yeah, another future conversation. First one would be Sam’s though. He got shot and needed to know why.

They carefully maneuvered Dean down and back out to Gabriel’s car, which looked like it now needed upholstery work. He was settled neatly into the passenger seat, Sam taking the back. He carefully turned, mindful of his shoulder, to pin his brother down with a glower. “Why am I shot?”

Sam blanched under the stare. “Um. I may have supposed to have stayed in California?”

Dean slowly closed his eyes, his hand gripping the edge of the seat tightly. Gabriel lightly patted his hand. “Hey now, easy on the car.”

“You don’t get to talk.” Dean pegged Gabriel with a sharp look. “You’ve got a past you don’t want to talk about, fine, but you lied.” He turned back to Sam. “What do you owe?”

“He owes nothing.” Gabriel harshly interjected over Sam’s hemming and hawing, his face sharp and serious as he pulled out onto the street. Dean met flat, serious eyes for a quick moment before he had to look back at the road to drive. “I left a message.”

Dean leaned back, staring. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Gabriel shook his head, the familiar sparkle suddenly back in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” Dean was certain about the predatory edge to his attempt at a normal smile. “Just a secretary, nothing more.” He shrugged nonchalantly, trying so hard to give off his familiar vibes, but Dean could see the tension under it all. “Besides, you said I didn’t have to talk about it, just not lie.” He did catch hold Dean’s gaze for a moment. “I do promise not to lie anymore.”

Dean took a deep breath. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I need to know Sam is safe.”

The sharp softened a bit. “Well, he’s safe for now. I can only do so much for so long.” Gabriel’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and back over to Dean. “Cassie might help too.”

Sam sat up and leaned forward. “Cas is here?” He shook his head. “I left him in New York.”

Dean and Gabriel both rolled their eyes, though Dean answered. “He tracked you down out here and managed to find me to look for you.” He tilted his head towards Gabriel. “He’s his cousin too.”

“Second cousin.” Gabriel tapped his chin in thought, waiting at a red light. “Which reminds me. Gabrielle?”

Sam burst out laughing as Dean started to turn a shade of red. “Yeah, no. I’ve been hearing so much about his tiny blonde secretary who can do everything for months now.” Sam leaned forward, rubbing it in. “ _She_ is apparently adorable.”

“Oh _really_?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Do tell.”

Sam smirked at Dean. “ _She_ has gorgeous amber eyes. He likes her height too.”

“Shut up!” Dean swung back towards Sam, who just leaned out of his arm reach. He tried to reach further, but the pain in his shoulder stopped his movement. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam’s eyes were dancing in amusement. “I think he likes that she’s smart the most.”

“I will kill you. Slowly.” Dean crossed his arms and glowered out the front windshield, refusing to even look in Gabriel’s direction. Gabriel on the other hand, he could feel was watching just how pink he got. He was sure he knew his employer at this point, and he was unfortunately giving all the signs that Sam was telling the truth. They were going to have an actual discussion later, and Dean knew it. Oddly the newest mystery that Gabriel gave him made him even more interested, and that wasn’t helping the color he was turning.

He finally peeked at Gabriel’s expression, and found softness. Gabriel’s smile was real this time. “Hey,” Gabriel lightly patted his knee. “About the blood? No one hurts what’s mine.”

“That wasn’t creepy at all.” Dean huffed a laugh, hoping beyond hope maybe it was a joke. He was pretty sure it wasn’t, but he also wasn’t sure at all how to process that comment.

Gabriel winked, his normal grin in place. “Oh I know.”


End file.
